


All For A Star

by GoingKnowhere



Category: The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Violence, Reader-Insert, Swearing, and other bad shit, deviousness, the bad stuff is in the background about a planet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 00:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoingKnowhere/pseuds/GoingKnowhere
Summary: Efficient.If there was one word you would use to describe the Necromongers, it would be efficient.They didn’t dawdle. They didn’t beat around the bush. They didn’t half-ass anything.They found the fastest, most effective route and they forged ahead.It was a point they made clear to each and every planet they conquered.Not even this one was exempt from that fact.





	All For A Star

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!!! So this is my first work for Vaako! And I got to say that I had a lot of fun writing it so there may be more in the future ;)
> 
> Anyways, I started this idea back in, like, early December??? November??? The point is that I started this and then didn’t finish it until now and then I couldn’t help but do some teasing about it last night ;) 
> 
> And all I can say about this is that it’s something else.
> 
> Enjoy! ♥

**_All For A Star_ **

 

Efficient.

 

If there was one word you would use to describe the Necromongers, it would be efficient.

 

They didn’t dawdle. They didn’t beat around the bush. They didn’t half-ass anything.

 

They found the fastest, most effective route and they forged ahead.

 

It was a point they made clear to each and every planet they conquered.

 

Not even this one was exempt from that fact.

 

In the hours that you spent lounging in the exquisite chaise in your quarters, sipping on wine and gazing out the high wall of windows, you watched the planet get overwhelmed and decimated. Watched the soldiers, like tiny insects, infest the capitol and take control. Watched as the airships soared out of sight, off to invade cities too far out of your line of sight.

 

Swirling your wine, you smirked.

 

Twenty-five years.

 

You took a sip, tipping your head as more of the armada march towards the city, the fog of past memories shrouding your consciousness.

 

You could still recall them, but they were no longer the crisp clear nightmares of before.

 

The sound of the door swinging open behind you pulled you from your thoughts, but you didn’t turn around. As the footsteps echoed behind you, you only bothered to focus on finishing the rest of your drink. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut, leaving only the sound of one set of heavy boots making their way over to you, that you moved to place your empty glass on the ebony side table. Your head twitched ever so slightly in acknowledgment of their presence.

 

“Haven’t you had enough?”

 

There was, however, one moment that you remember during your plight to stay free.

 

Your grin sharpened and you tipped your head back to see your husband standing just behind the chaise, a silver box held under his arm. “I’m just getting started, my love,” you purred to him. “Care to join me? Successful campaigns should always be celebrated.”

 

Siberius raised a brow at your words, lips twitching at the corners. As his eyes took in your dress-clad form - a rather sultry, black number you had had specially created for this day - you allowed yourself to return the favor. As his steps had disclosed, Siberius had not bothered to remove his armor before coming your shared quarters. Tarnished and dented, stained with his victories, the sight of the Lord Marshall in his armour always sparked a flame of desire in your belly. From the way it showcased his narrow waist to how it built up his already broad shoulders, you itched to pull it off of him just as much as you wished to always view him in it.

 

Forcing your eyes away from where they’d settled on one armored shoulder, you lifted them, only to find yourself locked with his own heady gaze. It was a mental fight to keep from squeezing your thighs together or reaching out to drag him onto you.

 

The moment, however, did not last as long as you wished; for Siberius turned his head in order to stare out at the ravaged planet. You mimicked his actions.

 

“Was it everything you had hoped, my star?”

 

As his low voice drawled the question, your chest swelled with love for him, a grin stretching once more across your face.

 

Kopraldi was a fucked up planet. The royal family ruled from a palace loaded with priceless jewels as the lower castes resorted to selling their own family members into unsavory trades just to gain enough money to survive. The lords and ladies bent over backward to appease every single wish handed down to them by the monarchy, but turned their noses up if a wish was called up to them from the citizens who  _actually_ supported their lavish lifestyles. A theft happened every hour. An assault every thirty minutes.

 

It was hell and your  _‘family’_  - your  _‘parents’_  - cared not for anything but themselves.

 

Twenty-five years and the memory of the traffickers breaking into your family’s shabby home, ripping you from your broken bed, was now just a whisper in your mind. Your bloody fight to escape in the street outside, the burn in your lungs as you raced through the pitch black alleys, was now just a haze in your memories.

 

Same goes for the planet hopping, the stealing, and the fights that followed.

 

But, there was that one memory - one memory from  _before_ \- that was still clear in your mind.

 

You’d been hustling some drunks in a tavern on a backwater planet when the armada had come; their ships roaring overhead and causing the ground to quake as they landed. By the time you’d raced into the streets, everyone in the city had been thrown into a panic. You had shoved your way through the crowds, ignoring those screaming for their loved ones and praying for help, until your path had been blocked by a small phalanx of Necromongers. For once, you didn’t try to fight. Only the stupid would try to fight a Necromonger, and you weren’t stupid. You allowed them to herd you and the people around you into the city’s center. There, you were ushered to stand in a large ring around the town square. While you had stayed quiet, glancing around at the events unfolding before your eyes, the people had buzzed with their fears before suddenly falling into a silent hush.

 

And then the crowd parted and  _he_ stepped into the clearing, words of strength and power dripping off his tongue, urging the people to undergo purification.

 

To chose the life of a Necromonger.

 

Unlike the others who kneeled with lost hope and silent tears, you had kneeled willingly, eager to taste the promise of a new life.

 

Unlike the others, who cast their eyes to the filthy cobblestone below them, you kept your chin up, eyes on the Lord Marshall.

 

You’d kept your ear to the ground long enough to hear of his campaigns.

 

How successful they were.

 

How those that didn’t convert were those greeted death in another manner.

 

And, as his piercing eyes had met yours, you realized that none of those stories had failed to mention a key detail about the Lord Marshall Vaako.

 

His armour was made to look intimidating… and it was… to an extent. The longer you had stared back, the more you saw past the tarnished metal and saw  _him_. You saw the stark contrast between his pale skin and pitch black hair, slicked back to keep his handsome features on full display.  _And his shape_ … It made you wonder just what that armor was hiding.

 

When he’d finally broken eye contact with you, you had tried to ignore the pang that had shot through your heart.  

 

Although a month later, after completing your purification, you were summoned to meet with the Lord Marshall.

 

The guard who had lead you to the Lord Marshall’s private study had said it was because he had wanted to see how you were adjusting, but Vaako -  _Siberius_ had been more focused on mapping your body with his hands and mouth - while you returned the favor - to ask you about the adjustment to your new life.

 

And it turned out, you were right.

 

The armor really had been hiding a work of art from the world.

 

A work of art that you, and only you, were given access to in the days, weeks, and months that followed. The wedding over a year later was hardly a surprise to the empire. Siberius and you had hardly kept your relationship a secret.

 

“Everything and more, my love.”

 

And you’ve been by each other’s sides from then on.

 

Movement to your right drew your attention away from the siege outside. You watched as Siberius stepped around the chaise and extended his hand to you. Curiosity filled you as you accepted his hand, allowing him to pull you into a sitting position. Once you were resettled, he kneeled on one armored knee before you, swinging the box under his arm up to rest across his thigh. Intrigued, you quirked a brow at him in question. He smirked in response, dipping his chin down in the direction of the box.

 

That was all the encouragement you needed.

 

Reaching out, you ran your fingers lightly over the silver case’s smooth, surface. With a quick flick, the two clasps snapped open. With one last glance at your husband, you tipped the lid up, a soft gasp escaping your blood-painted lips when its contents were finally revealed.

 

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Siberius rumbled as you picked up one jewel encrusted choker, its diamonds glittering as they caught the light. He continued to speak as you placed it back down on the velvet lining. Though not much of the black fabric could be seen; the numerous pieces of jewelry and loose gems did a fabulous job of concealing the bottom of the box. “These are the finest the Queen and Ladies had to offer.”

 

_You keep what you kill._

 

Gently, you picked up another necklace. You didn’t have to say anything to Siberius - merely meet his gaze - to communicate your thoughts and feelings to him. In one swift movement, the case was closed and on the floor and you felt the familiar presence of your husband settle in on the seat next to you. You tipped your head automatically, suppressing a shiver as his long fingers brushed against your neck as they fastened the necklace. When it was secured, the many gemstones creeping up your neck and resting comfortably across your shoulders and down your neck, you felt the ghosting of fingers replaced by the hot press of lips behind your ear.

 

“Beautiful,” he whispered, giving your ear a light nip on its lobe. As Siberius moved to pepper kisses along your neck, his hands slid from your upper arms to settle themselves low on your waist. Your eyes fluttered shut as his fingers began to rub slow circles near your hips.

 

Even as heat flooded your body, you found yourself unable to resist a favorite pastime of yours. “I hope you mean me, my love,” you teased.

 

The hands ceased their motions, tightening their grip at your sides, but it was the harder bite at your ear that had you releasing a low moan.

 

_Oh…_

 

 You would never be tired of his retaliations.

 

“Only a fool would compare their light to your own, my star,” Siberius said, shifting closer to your body, one hand moving to trail lightly up your spine while the other grazed up over the necklace. “Now, what do you say we add more to your shine and I show these citizens how a queen deserves to be treated.”

 

At his words, your eyes flickered open, taking in the armada’s newest conquest. Lifting a hand, you placed it over where his had settled upon your chest. Lacing your fingers together, you smirked.

 

Yes, successful campaigns should always be celebrated.

 

_;)_

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated!! ♥
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr](http://goingknowherewastaken.tumblr.com/)!!


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